


An evening before autumn comes

by Corinne K (Corinne_K)



Series: Waterfalls [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Future Fic, M/M, POV Second Person, Past Relationship(s), Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 15:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18449036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corinne_K/pseuds/Corinne%20K
Summary: At fifty, Rin settles back in Japan and marries the love of his life.Wedding fluff and slice of life.





	An evening before autumn comes

On your fiftieth year of life, you marry for the second time. Your Ex is there with the kids (calling them kids at this point will only get you an eye roll, but you can’t kick the habit just yet). They both have composite names because you didn’t want to drop either part of their heritage, but with time they have adjusted them to their liking: Aiden Ryoma goes by Aiden and Arisa Sophie goes by Ary.

Your mother cries when she sees you in full wedding atire - montsuki, hakama and haori. She also cried at the same scene almost 20 years ago. Matsuokas are just like that - emotional and transparent to a fault.

Emma lays a hand on your shoulder and smiles. You inhale sharply. You don’t exchange words. You’ve been through years of highs and lows - romantic bliss, uncertainty, elation, sleepless nights, tranquility, anxiety. You appreciate her kindness even after you’ve fed your marriage to the flames.

It all begins when you cheat for the first time. Young chap in a bar in Brisbane, still remembers you from your heyday, tells you your eyes are piercing and your muscles are hot. You let him blow you in a bathroom stall and agonize about it afterwards. Why did you go to the bar? Why did you let it go so far? You dismiss it as a mid life crisis, but you can’t seem to dispel the ghost of those hands on your buttocks, that wet mouth, the sounds emitted around you that vibrated through your spine. You torture your mind for a way out. It comes to you one morning. You say

“I think I want to spend some time back home.”

You go to Japan without much of a plan. Emma doesn’t follow. The kids are in school, uprooting them won’t do. 

You settle at your mom’s place for a while, but you have savings and real estate is a good investment, something you can leave to your kids. You look around the agencies and fall in love with a small villa by the sea with a balcony from which you can watch the sunset. It’s closer to Iwatobi than your mom’s place. You say it’s nice to be closer to your old friends, now that they’ve all returned home too. You hang out with Makoto and his family, with Nagisa and Rei - the quintessential high school sweethearts - with Sousuke and your sister.

As predicted by them all, Haruka has remained single. He is back in the old house by the shrine, content and reclusive now that his swimming days are over. You barge into his life once again, bulldoze through his paper walls. You ask yourself- what is there now that the rivalry is no more? And the answer comes in the form of slow morning jogs, evenings playing cards, crazy culinary experiments carried out in his old kitchen, days of doing nothing, days around town, days spent decorating your house with the help of his skilled hands, days that turn into months. You drink his quiet presence. You observe him when you both fall silent, and all the questions you had shoved out the back door of your mind come flooding back in. What is this that you two have? Why does it feel so right? Why is it not enough?

Everything changes on a stormy night. You say it’s not safe to drive back after dinner and he invites you to stay the night. He lays the futon next to his old bed - you wonder why he never replaced it. You laugh about that one sleepover and your awkward conversation about porn and waterfalls. You tease him. It’s good natured but the mood changes. He’s suddenly wistful, taken over by some ancient melancholy. You still in your tracks and take in your surroundings. The way everything is familiar within that enclosed space stops being nostalgic when you realise that the whole place is frozen in time, stagnated and abandoned. Even as Haruka went on to the world stage and to become Japan’s greatest swimmer, even as he brought back medal after medal and inspired generations of new talent, Haruka’s heart always remained inside this room. Still and empty, waiting for something. Waiting for you - your mind supplies.

You place your hands on his waist and put an end to the drought. His eyes go wide before they shut. You touch your foreheads together and caress his hair. He kisses you.

For weeks to come the two of you dance around the idea that you have become something more than friends. You hold hands in private, you kiss. More weeks pile on top of those first ones and soon you realise that you are in an extra marital affair with the love of your life. It makes you feel like trash. You eventually gather the guts to fly to Australia and lay your heart at Emma’s feet. The shock of the revelation gives way to a knowing frown. She knows the tone you use when there’s no room for argument. She asks you to put your things in storage. You ship them to Japan. The divorce is quick and consensual. You propose and he says yes.

Your sister checks her phone and signals the shrine boy. There’s a couple of photographers lingering around the shrine grounds. The wedding of two old glories of team Japan might make it to the trivia pages of some regional newspaper. You don’t care, as long as they make themselves scarce. When you married Emma at Meiji Jingu, there had been crowds, commotion, armed police and TV crews all the way to Harajuku. Haruka would have hated that sort of thing.

This time, the ceremony is held at the diminutive shrine on top of the hill. The Kannushi is around your age and knows Haruka for almost as long as Makoto, although they were never as close. It wasn’t difficult to talk him into performing the wedding rite.

Gou whispers in your ear “He’s coming” and your heart starts pounding your ribs like a mad drummer.

The first head to emerge from the stairway is rusty brown with streaks of silver. Makoto stands at the top and swivels to hold out his hand to a yet invisible figure. Rei and Nagisa position themselves at the flanks. Rei has told you that the Iwatobi team has been waiting for this day since their second year of high school. They want to send Haruka off together. 

The shrine boy rushes to them with a big, white paper umbrella. You can barely live through the anticipation. You clutch your fan tight in your hand and hope the paper won’t melt. You stare at that last stone step as if it were the centre of the world.

Finally, as the warm beams of the setting sun glow yellow through the trees, Haruka emerges, head high, shoulders square, blue gaze fixed on you.

Haruka has always been a beauty, but the years have left something poetic in his appearance. His cheek bones are higher and sterner, his eyes a lighter blue, framed by graceful lines. He wears a black montsuki with a crisp white undershirt and a royal blue hakama. The stoic prince of Iwatobi. You grin and he gives you a look.

The Iwatobi guys fall into pace behind him as they walk along the leaf covered path, lined by stone lanterns that have just been lit. When the procession approaches, you step beneath the white umbrella and take his hand. You enter the wedding hall, all guests behind you. You go through the motions - the kneeling, the bows, the words, the sake. Every moment is crystal clear. You only remember flashes of your first wedding. You were so enamoured, your mind hazy with sake, Emma and cherry blossoms. This time, you are present and sober. Haruka gives you an approving smile.

It’s the end of summer and a cool breeze blows from the sea when you exit the shrine. You hold hands as you go down the tricky stone steps. Haruka says “I’m going to go barefoot, I hate these stupid sleepers”, and you laugh until you wheeze and pick him up bridal style. 

“Rin, put me down, idiot! You have a bad back!”

The neighbours along the way cheer and laugh and follow you to his house. There’s a long table set in the backyard with lit paper lanterns overhead. The food is from a local catering ran by Sasabe’s daughter. They finish setting up and join the party. The Iwatobi gang gathers around Sasabe and his wife of many years - their old team advisor. Emma excuses herself early, but leaves the kids behind. Makoto’s son seems to act suspiciously courteous around Ary and you make a note to keep an eye on them. They will crash at the villa while you stay here tonight - a farewell to the old, creaking, beloved house. Although Haruka refuses to sell it, he agreed to move to your place and make a hostel out of his.

Makoto gets duly plastered by the end of the night and drops a few bombshells about Haru’s lifelong crush on a certain Rin Matsuoka. He gets swatted across the forehead repeatedly for that. Haru pouts and snuggles in your arms. It’s just a small group now, gathered around the living room table - the two of you, Rei, Nagisa, Makoto, Gou and Sousuke. Momo has fallen asleep on the porch with your younger nephew draped across his legs.

“Makoto,” you drawl, “I think your son ran away with my daughter... he better treat her well or else…”

That stirs the conversation for a while. Makoto holds his hands up in defence and looks exactly like his high school self. Nagisa makes a show of falling sideways into his partner’s lap.

“Rin-chaaan! Let the kids be kids.”

Haruka pours sake into your cup and drops one hand over your thigh. Possession. He is yours and you are his.

The others take the cue and you are soon left alone with your husband. You climb the stairs hand in hand and enter his room. He sees you staring fixedly at the old single bed and says, “is it stupid that I want it to be here?”

Well, you would certainly be more comfortable on the king sized bed in your modern sea side villa, but you reply, “no, it’s romantic.” 

Removing kimonos and hakamas is a hurdle of heavy fabric and endless laces. You unwrap him like a gift and lay him down with reverence. Was it a good idea to wait until your wedding night to deflower him? Probably not. But now, as you loom over his slender body, his hand covering his face, you feel impossibly fond. 

“Are you ready?” You whisper into his hair.

He hums and closes his eyes.

In the morning you bring the last of his possessions to the car and he locks the front door. He lingers with a palm resting on the wooden surface. You wait for him a step behind, car keys spinning around your index, giving him time to say goodbye. He finally turns and lets his hand drop alongside his body. The morning sun lights sparkles in his misty eyes.

“Rin”, he whispers, “Thank you for coming home.”


End file.
